


Almost Like Fate

by IchiBri



Series: JMMonth2017 [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, nothing but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 07:48:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11122887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IchiBri/pseuds/IchiBri
Summary: Jean and Marco spend time looking through a childhood photo album and make an interesting discovery.JeanMarcoMonth2017 - Prompt Reuinion/Fate





	Almost Like Fate

“I always expected baby you to have freckles,” Jean said.

“Are you disappointed?” Marco quietly chuckled as he curled up next to Jean on the couch.  Clutching a mug of tea in his hands, he brought it to his lips for a sip.

“A little bit.  I kinda feel lied to.”  Jean stared down at the old, worn photo album balancing on his bent knees.  His thumb rubbed along the edge of a picture.  As he gazed down at baby Marco in a polka-dotted onesie, a tender smile spread over his sharp features.  “Your parents must’ve known.”

“Probably.  I mean, look at the rest of my family.  They’re like 80% freckles,” Marco laughed – the sound soft and breathy.

Jean flipped the page, and he swore another portion of his heart melted at the array of baby Marcos presented to him.  He’d have to remember to send Marco’s mom a thank you for giving them the album, because he was barely three pages in and had already ascended to heaven.

“You were such a cute baby,” Jean said.

“And I’m not now?” Marco nudged his shoulder against Jean’s.

“You _are_ such a cute baby,” Jean corrected himself and playfully pushed back.

Marco’s tea sloshed in the mug, nearly spilling over the edge, so he set it down on the coffee table.  When he settled back into Jean’s side, he laid his head upon Jean’s shoulder.  “So many pictures of me sleeping,” he hummed.

Staring at the photos, Jean understood why.  Baby Marco looked so peaceful when he slept.  Chubby cheeks and tiny little fingers loosely curled, he radiated a sense of tranquility in his pastel yellow onesie.  Even when his pudgy face squished together and his lips pouted, Marco was the epitome of cuteness.

Jean flipped the page and held back an amused snort at the first picture.  Sitting in a high chair with a birthday hat upon his head, Marco’s face was splattered with frosting and cake crumbs.  His hands dug into the remnants of what Jean assumed was the birthday cake, but Jean couldn’t be sure.  It looked more like a pile of mush.

“I’m glad you have better table manners now.  I’d never be able to take you to a fancy restaurant if you ate like that,” Jean teased.

“Oh, shut up,” Marco laughed.  “I’ve seen you eat stale popcorn off the floor.”

“There’s a five second rule!” Jean huffed, but his momentary indignation mellowed back to a calming blissfulness when Marco chuckled.  Pressed so close together, Jean felt the vibrations seep into him, and he sighed his contentment.

“Oh, wait,” Marco perked, lifting his head from Jean’s shoulder as he caught Jean’s wrist.  He pointed to a picture in the bottom corner of toddler him curled up on a carpet – sucking his thumb and clutching a quilted blanket.  Fast asleep, he was oblivious to the calico cat perched atop his side.  “Aww, I remember Candy Kitty.  She was so sweet.”

He turned his head then, bright coppery eyes meeting Jean’s.  “We should get a cat.”

“Does our building even allow pets?”

“I don’t know,” Marco shrugged.  “We can always move.”

“For a cat?”

“Yeah.”

Jean breathed a puff of amusement before shaking his head.  “Okay, but we’re giving it a better name than Candy Kitty.”

“Oh, like Doc McStuffins is so much better?”

“Doc McStuffins was the best name I’ve ever come up with, and no one is ever gonna top it”

Marco hummed, not convinced in the slightest.  But he settled back into the couch once more and returned his head to Jean’s shoulder.

Jean turned the page to pictures of zoo animals.  A young Marco – about four years old – stood proudly beside a lion, only a thick piece of glass separating the two.  In another, he held his father’s hand and excitedly pointed to a pair of spotted seals playing in the water.  At the petting zoo, Marco giggled as a goat ate pellets out of his hand.

“You finally got your freckles,” Jean cooed, turning to poke Marco’s cheek.

A few trills of laughter bubbled up Marco’s throat.  He playfully batted Jean’s hand away before gazing at the page of photos.

Marco blinked.  He straightened and leaned forward to get a better look at the pictures.  “Is… is that you?” he asked, brow furrowed with confusion.

“Huh?” Jean looked at the picture of the goats.  In the foreground was the giggling and bubbly Marco.  But when he looked further behind Marco, he saw a pudgy little boy crying on the ground.

Flashbacks of a billy goat chasing him flooded his mind.  He shuddered at the horror, eyes widening as he stared at the photo.  “That goat headbutted me!”

“So, it is you?” Marco asked, a soft glint to his eyes when they flicked to Jean.

“Yeah,” Jean nodded.

Marco shifted to cross his legs beneath himself as he pulled the photo album into his lap.  Slightly hunched over, he scoured each picture.  “Oh, here you are again.  And here.  Here too,” Marco laughed as he pointed to a photo.

Jean leaned into Marco to catch a glimpse.  They stood on the raised lookout platform of the giraffe habitat.  Marco’s father knelt beside his son and cupped his hand beneath Marco’s, guiding Marco to feed the waiting giraffe.  But off to the side, little Jeanbo cried as a giraffe’s long tongue tangled in his hair.

“It almost ate me,” Jean said.

“Good thing it didn’t.”  Marco pressed a quick peck to Jean’s cheek.  He marveled at the surprised fluttering of Jean’s eyelashes and the quiet gasp that slipped past his lips.  “Looks like we met long before high school.”

Jean blinked before quietly saying, “Y-yeah.  Almost like fate, huh?”

“Fate,” Marco tested the word.  It sure sounded romantic, but Marco wasn’t sure he believed in such a thing.  For it wasn’t fate that chose Jean.  Marco chose Jean.  He made that decision himself.

Before Marco could comment further, Jean huffed a breath.  His head fell to Marco’s shoulder as a low whine rumbled in his chest.  “That’s not fair!  Fate gave you a fun family vacation, but all I got was childhood trauma and a fear of goats!”

“Oh baby, come here,” Marco chuckled.  He wrapped an arm around Jean’s back and held him close.  “I’ll protect you from any scary goats.”

“Not funny,” Jean grumbled into Marco’s collarbone, but there was no bite to his tone.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me @ichibri on tumblr and twitter


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